


Dandelion Wine

by inkncoffee



Series: Percy Jackson and the Fairy Tale Collection [7]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Human Percy, M/M, Magical Nico, clueless Percy, fairytale AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-06 21:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11608860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkncoffee/pseuds/inkncoffee
Summary: Trapped in what's essentially the underworld? Check. Three impossible tasks? Check. Crazy demon-lady? Yep. A mysterious oddly helpful stranger with a tragic backstory who disappears into shadows when asked difficult questions but always comes to the rescue? Um . . . check too? What fairytale nonsense was this anyway?





	1. Unforgettable

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to do a Prunella AU since I started this collection. I'm willing to bet all my college debt that none of you have ever heard of Prunella before. It's an old Italian fairytale that is, believe it or not, considered to be a Rapunzel variant. Prunella is one of my favorite fairytales and 90% of that has to do with the fact that it is riddled with tropes and it kills me. I've made plenty of my unfortunate friends read it and they all agree it's mostly a me thing. But I'm going to subjugate you to a PJO retelling because I can! Don't worry, I've toned down the crazy a little.

Once upon a time, there was a young stableman whose beauty was beyond description. Even if all the languages that ever graced the tongues of man, in the now, the then, and the yet to be, were pooled together, sufficient enough words could not be found to give him any justice. If one were to try, however, they might say he was more beautiful than all of Elysium, with twice the splendor that did launch a thousand ships, one to whom even Aphrodite would pass the golden apple. The youth, uncorrupted by his Adonis beauty, had in him a goodness like no other; his golden heart was worth thrice all the hoarded coinage that towered in cold mountains beneath the king's royal feet.

Likened treasure could not be found in any realm of existence. But, alas, where ever good things are to be found, jealousy is never far behind. The good youth walked home that night with an empty stomach and a light head, for the young princes of the castle were so very much jealous of him, and weary his shoulders, for they did so love to burden him in their envy. Perseus was his name, which was altogether far too grand a name for a mere stableman such as himself, quoth the princes, so Percy he was called. Not that Percy minded a great deal, or at all really, because Percy was shorter and he did loath to sound like the grand princes who looked down their noses at him.

As it were, Percy was very hungry that night, his body weary from a long day at work and the moon had long since rose to her height.

Now perhaps you shall blame him for his thoughtlessness or turn up your nose without so much as a 'serves him right' for his lack of forethought, but perhaps you've never been hungry before. Not the kind of hungry that rumbles and reminds you that lunch was light and mother already invited you twice to sup, but true hunger. The kind that gnawed at your stomach and sang in every bone of your worn, weak body until everything ached and you couldn't quite think straight because it consumed you so. If you did, you would hardly blame the unlucky stableman.

This was the hunger Percy felt as he wandered along the darkened trail back to his cold, unlit quarters. And so when he passed under a tree, his head brushing against the low lying branches, and when the fruit fell, quite nicely and conveniently, right into his hands, he ate it.

Thus begins our tale . . .

It was the wind Percy noticed first, the sharpness of it cutting to his very bones and freezing the breath in his throat. The ground beneath his feet, grass overgrown and dirt soft, became hard until his heels clicked against cracked rock. The air grew cold and stale. The very world itself seemed to change, a gloom settling over his body like a physical weight. The fruit fell from his hands in shock, cracking against the floor, red seeds spilling forth in an almost grotesque display.

He was inside somewhere. Which didn't make any sense because he was just  _outside_ , in a very particular place that clearly was not  _here_. The walls that stretched around him were barren and dark, a single torch flickering across the way, hot oil drip, dripping onto the equally barren floor.

What on earth?!

Percy blinked—and realized a man stood half in the shadows. Percy only got half a second to take in his features, not enough to get a decent appraisal but enough to distinguish the equally surprised look on his face. The man's mouth fell open in a perfect 'o', eyes wide.

"Hey," Percy started to say, taking a step forward.

He didn't get to say any more for just then an evil cackle filled the air. Percy's head whipped towards the sound, brow furrowed. The wind itself seemed to carry the terrible laughter. His head snapped back towards the shadow, but the man was gone.

"What fool?" The coldly cruel voice cackled, "What utter fool picked of my tree and ate of my fruit?"

"Uh—" was Percy's intelligent reply as the wind whipped his hair and clothes about, a dark haze swirling menacingly before him.

Out of the whirling mess, a figure emerged. It was woman-shaped but even before her grinning face solidified, Percy knew it was no woman—and that he was in  _big_ trouble. As she stepped forth, leaving the swirling wind behind, Percy had the unsettled feeling that, for a moment, he stared at the face of his dead mother, then the father he never knew, then the little boy who fell ill last summer, the woman who the princes tortured to insanity . . . .

He blinked, hard, and they vanished. He almost wished he hadn't for the image behind was infinitely worse; the woman appeared like two unlike halves seamlessly sewed together. The right side of her body was as sickly white as bone, as if the skin were entirely drained of blood. The left side was blacker than night, hardened and stretched over her features like leather. A golden dress hung mockingly over her frame, as if its sparkling slender could distract from the wrongness of her split form.

Percy hesitantly rose his eyes to meet hers and immediately regretted it; where eyes should have been only gaping, empty holes could be found. Percy couldn't help recoiling from the ghastly sight.

"Yikes," he grimaced. Then, realizing that was probably a good way to get himself killed, quickly amended, "ah, I mean. I didn't know that was your tree. Totally wouldn't have eaten the fruit if I had, I swear. My bad, I am so sorry. Won't ever happen again."

"I daresay not," the demon hissed, stalking closer. "You shall never leave my domain again, oh foolish one, much less take once more that which does not belong to you."

"Come on, I didn't know it was a special tree!" Percy exclaimed, scrambling backwards to avoid the advancing demon. "It was an honest mistake. What do you mean  _never leave again?"_

"I mean you will never. Leave. Again." The demon grinned widely, the image terrifying with her gaping, eyeless sockets. "Whoever eats from my tree is forever bound to my service and you, oh foolish one—" she reached out, the back of her black, withered hand caressing his cheek "—ate three seeds."

"Oh you've got to be kidding me," Percy whispered, his back against the wall. "Um, look I didn't know those were the rules and I was just really, really hungry. And I'm really really sorry—"

The demon's head turned, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. "No, you're not."

"Okay, I'm not sorry I ate them, I was  _starving,_ but I am sorry that they were precious and I swear I've learned my lesson, cross my heart." He mimicked crossing his heart and tried on his best-winning smile, the one that his mother used to say could charm the socks off a snake. The demon didn't look impressed. Then again, he was seven when his mother passed . . . perhaps he lost that charming edge years ago.

Percy let his shoulders slump as he tried to put on his best-kicked puppy face. "C'mon, I didn't know, that's not fair. That's like, false advertising or something. Couldn't you make an exception? Just this once? I  _swear_ it'll never happen again."

The demon seemed to think, her lips twisting. Which was super weird by the way, with one side all pale and bloodless and the other withered and blackened. He wanted her to stop actually, it was messing with his head.

"Perhaps," the demon dramatically sighed. She narrowed her—well not her  _eyes_ because she didn't  _have_ eyes but the terrifying gaping holes where her eyes  _should_  have been narrowed. "I will give you a chance."

Percy gave a little mental shout of joy, automatically grinning, "Thanks—"

" _So_ if you complete three tasks for me, I'll let you go free."

"Just complete three tasks?" Percy repeated. That didn't sound so bad. After all, it could hardly be worse than anything the vile princes threw at him. He worked from sunrise to sunset at the royal palace, cleaning the stables and chasing down horses, being trampled on and whipped when he was 'too slow'. If he could survive the hell that was his living life, surely he could ace any unliving tasks. "No problem, you got it."

The demon smirked and, for a moment, Percy's confidence almost wavered.

"As you wish it. But if you fail, you shall serve the rest of your life here in my domain, obeying my every command and never again may you ask to rejoin the living world. Understood?"

"Got it," Percy confidently replied, giving himself a shake as if he could physically throw off his uncertainties. "What's the first task?"

"So eager to be proven wrong," the demon hissed joyfully.

"Psh, or to prove  _you_  wrong," Percy rebutted as the demon reached her withered hand over her shoulder, blackened fingers dipping into the swirling darkness behind her.

"Fill this bucket with water from the river," the demon commanded and from the gloom she pulled a rather benign and ordinary water pail.

She gracefully gave the bucket a toss and it arched soundlessly through the air. Percy had to ungracefully dart forward to catch it, wincing as the hard metal unforgivingly banged against his arms, the handle clanging noisily against the side. The demon raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Percy fought the urge to stick his tongue out, knowing it was childish and probably suicidal. So she got points for style, he was still gonna win this. He had to; he had desperation and the innate longing for freedom on his side. Also pure, mule-like stubbornness. That had to count for something, right?

"Best luck, child of the light," she hissed, the sound snakelike and inhuman as she withdrew into her swirling cloud of darkness, the mass curling around her, obscuring her form until all he could see was the wicked smile. Then that too faded into the darkness.

"That was . . . unnecessarily dramatic," Percy muttered as the darkness disbursed into the stagnant air.

 _Gods, what a mess_ , Percy thought, swinging the bucket at his side as he craned his head, looking around the giant, empty hall. All because he ate three stupid little seeds. Because of course, this was his life after all, why did he expect anything else?

"What river and how do I get to it?" Percy wondered aloud, kicking himself for not asking. That seemed like pretty vital information.

Dammit.

"Alright, alright," he muttered, walking forward.

The hall was large and for a terrifying couple of minutes, he thought there was no way out—wouldn't that be a killer,  _fill my bucket from a river when you can't escape my hall ha,_ but no, there it was: an opening. If he expected fresh air or sun-kissed warmth, he was sorely disappointed. The air was just as motionless and stagnant here as it was inside. The gloom that curled around his ankles was the same and, tilting his head towards the heavens, his stomach twisted. There was no heaven—or at least, one he was familiar with. The world stretched on over his head, an endless abyss of darkness with no sun, no light, no cloud or frankly no anything at all.

 _Freaky_ , Percy thought, shuddering lightly and forcing his eyes back to the ground. A dense fog of sorts clung to the ground. Vague tree like shapes could be seen looming in the far distance, void of leaves or anything green, but before him stretched on a field of long stemmed grass. Figures milled around in the field, slowly, meaningless.

"Okay," Percy muttered beneath his breath. No big deal, he had this.  _Focus, find a river_ , he reminded himself as he determinedly started off across the field.

"Hey, excuse me," Percy called to the nearest meandering figure.

The figure didn't turn, their steps faltering only the slightest bit as they leaned down, fingers brushing against the tall grass.

"I don't mean to bother you," he tried again, coming over to the stranger's side. "I just need to know—hey, buddy, I'm talking to you—" he said in irritation as the figure continued to ignore him.

"Hey, I just need you to point me—" Percy grabbed the guy's shoulder and forced the figure to turn. He immediately regretted it.

His fingers fell right through the figure as though it were nothing more than the fog that swirled around his ankles and the phantom finally turned ghostly, all-seeing eyes on the shocked stableman.

"Shit," Percy gasped, almost dropping his bucket as he stumbled back. The ghost made a terrible, pained moan, staring right through Percy.

"Ah, nevermind, sorry," he gasped, hastily catching the bucket and taking two more steps backward, just in case.

The ghost already lost interest in him, dragging itself forward, eyes staring at nothing. Percy watched it go with a horrified fascination. Had this figure once been a real person? Percy sometimes heard stories about what happens to people after their death, usually something about judgment and what ring in Hades they would be doomed to spend all of eternity in. Was this one of those places? Or was this poor faded relic of life one of the demon's victims? Was that Percy fate if he failed?

Percy shook his head. It didn't matter, he told himself firmly, because he wasn't going to fail.  _Focus_ , he sharply reminded himself.  _Find the river_. Percy determinedly trudged through the field, the bucket tucked securely under his arm as he forged onward. The ghosts, or whatever they were, paid him no mind, milling around and looking woefully into the distance, giving the occasional wail of despair. Percy figured that was appropriate, given their circumstances.

He wasn't sure what direction he trudged in (the lack of sun and stars left him utterly disorientated) but he determinedly marched on. His eyes flickered to the left, were the creepy barren trees stretched their black branches. Well, if at all possible he would like to avoid the creepy forest thank you very much, hopefully the river was this way. The grass grew longer and longer the further he tread, their long, dry stalks scratching at the thin, worn threads of his pants until their height grew too great and they began to droop, bending over and folding in on themselves. The ghost-figures grew fewer and fewer until they disappeared entirely, leaving Percy utterly alone.

"S'okay, just a creepy old field and some mostly dead grass," Percy muttered to himself, shaking his head.

Then the grass, dry and sad, began to wane, the patches becoming thin then sparse. Percy watched as the grass pulled back, revealing the coal black soil underneath, which plumed and stirred with every step he took. Percy watched the progression, one step followed by a little plume of black dust mingling with the fog around his ankles, idly contemplating whether he should turn around and head in the other direction when he heard it: the trickle of running water.

" _Yes,_ the river," Percy cheered, grinning broadly.

The sound rejuvenated him and Percy eagerly rushed forward, leaving the edge of the overgrown field behind as he raced on. The river seemed a thin slit on the horizon but with each excited bound Percy made, it doubled in size until he came to the banks of a substantial river, easily several leagues in width. The water flowed smoothly, almost serenely. The water shimmered despite the lack of sunlight, its color a clear, pleasant blue. It was an outstandingly beautiful and tranquil sight in this hellish landscape; it took Percy's breath away and he stared, unblinkingly.

Uncertainly, Percy tilted his head to the side, looking up and down the tranquil bank of the beautiful river. It wasn't a rapids, the water flowed smoothly; the water didn't appear toxic, the spray smelled fresh; there were no sharp rocks or cliffs to trap him.

Percy was stumped.

"What's so hard about drawing water from here?" He wondered, snorting as he stepped forward with the bucket.

With his feet planted firmly (just in case something jumped out and tried to drown him), Percy leaned over, grasping the bucket firmly (again, just in case the river really  _was_ moving fast but he couldn't tell or if something tried to grab the  _bucket_ ) and dipped it into the water.

"Ah, cold," Percy complained as the water splashed against his hand.

Percy blinked.

He was . . . staring at the sky.

Only, no. That wasn't right because where was the sun?

Well. He was on his back, that's for certain, and he was staring up ahead  _soo_ maybe it was night?

Nope, where was the moon?

 _New moon?_ His mind helpfully suggested. Ah, yes that must be it, it was a new moon so there wouldn't be a moon just a sky full of stars.

Wait. Where were the stars?

Percy's brow puckered, his lips turning down.

"This would be a lot easier to figure out if you weren't looming over me and blocking my view!" he complained loudly to the man currently looming over him and blocking his view.

Wait. That wasn't normal. That wasn't . . . did he know this guy?

"Do I know you?" Percy demanded, squinting at the guy.

"What's your name?" the guy asked urgently, eyes wide as he continued to loom over Percy.

He was getting closer actually, his face drawing nearer and nearer. Percy decided he'd never seen this man before in his life and promptly shoved him away, pushing himself into a sitting positon. The man stumbled, grunting a little but seemed mostly unconcerned as he lurched right back into Percy's personal space.

"Name," he demanded, peering into Percy's eyes like he was sick or something.

"Stop that," Percy said irritably, trying to swat the man away. "My name is Percy, not that it matters much to you."

"Good," the man looked relieved and he stopped examining Percy's eyes, plopping down in the dirt across from the irritated man instead.

"Alright, what's going on here, why don't I—?" Percy demanded, squinting at the strange man. "Wait—you're the guy from the hall earlier!"

The man's ears turned slightly pink. Percy narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the man before him. Under consideration, Percy realized his companion actually looked to be around his age, if not even a little younger. His hair was dark, skin olive toned yet oddly pale, and his cheek bones sharp enough to cut rock. Bags hung under dark eyes, a leather jacket and dark pants donned that almost hid a near skeletal frame. Near skeletal, because even with his shoulders hunched the way they currently were, Percy got the odd impression this guy was no light weight. He fidgeted uncomfortably under Percy's scrutiny, twisting a skeleton ring on his fingers.

 _Weird,_ Percy decided, but significantly less creepy than the demon not-woman.

"You got a name?" Percy demanded when the guy fidgeting with his ring and said nothing.

The guy cleared his throat. "Nico," he said, his voice low, "at your service."

His dark eyes flickered up, bangs half obscuring them. It was . . . almost endearing actually, made Percy kind of want to pat the guy on the head and tell him everything was going to be alright. Percy shook his head to dispel his nonsensical thoughts. The motion drew his attention to the scene behind the strange guy—Nico—at the river and the bucket laying on its side.

"The river!" Percy recalled, launching to his feet. "Ha, I found it."

"Yeah, but hey wait," Nico said, scrambling to his feet as well as Percy took two quick strides forward to snatch the bucket up.

"Uh-uh, buddy," Percy said happily, snatching the bucket up, "I do  _not_ plan on being stuck here forever so if you don't mind—"

" _No wait, don't—"_

He was on the ground. Sitting though, with his legs kind of sprawled out as though he'd fallen after being toss back by some great force. A bucket lay at his side. He blinked at it, then at the man cursing in front of him, pulling at his hair.

"Hey dude, you okay?" Percy asked as the guy cursed in a language Percy'd never heard before.

The man tugged at his hair so hard Percy was afraid he'd pull it out.

"How much did you touch, what did you—what's my name?"

"Man I don't know, why should I know your—Hey, wait," Percy snapped his fingers, "you're that guy from the hall!"

The guy groaned, slapping a hand over his eyes. Percy decided to ignore him, turning instead to frown at the bucket by his side.

"Why do I have a bucket?" Percy wondered out loud, plucking the thing up from its resting place on the ground. He brushed coal black dirt off the side, frowning. His mind turned sluggishly. He should . . . he should know  _why,_ shouldn't he? He felt like he . . .

"You're trying to fill that bucket with water to accomplish the first task so you might return to the surface," the man said.

"Oh!" Percy said and his brain came back online. "Oh right!"

He jumped to his feet, but the guy seemed to expect that. He jumped in front of Percy, arms spread wide and looking pained.

"No! Don't touch the water!" he exclaimed.

Percy frowned at him, then peeked under the man's arms at the innocuous blue water behind him, then back up at the crazy guy's crazed face.

"Why not?" he asked, humoring him. Percy wasn't entirely sure why, but some part of him trusted this strange skeletal looking guy.

"The water  _makes you forget_ ," the man said.

Percy blinked, remembering how he was just on the ground and how exasperated the man appeared. "This isn't the first time we've had this conversation is it?" he hedged.

The man's face twisted.

"Yeah, okay, my bad. Then . . . I'll just not touch the water," Percy said, quickly ducking under the man's arms.

"It's  _designed_  so you'll touch the water—oh for Hades' sake—"

Percy was on the ground. A guy scowled at him, bent over Percy and using his own jacket to whisk away the water droplets on Percy's hands.

"I know you," Percy deduced.

The guy's eyes twitched.

"Nico," he said through clenched teeth.

"Nico! Buddy!" Percy remembered, grinning broadly.

Nico didn't look impressed. In fact, he looked about ten seconds away from throwing Percy into the river for good.

"Don't. Touch. The. Water."

"Okay fine," Percy huffed, crossing his arms after angrily reclaiming his hands. "Then how do you suppose I draw the water huh? Cause I got news for you pal, I am  _not_ staying down here with that she-demon for the rest of eternity."

"If you keep up this stupidity, you won't even  _remember_  the surface," Nico grumbled, crossing his own arms.

"Then what do you suggest I do, wise guy?"

Nico hesitated at that, his touch guy look faltering. Then his face steeled, and before Percy could react, Nico had torn the bucket out of his hands and stalked towards the walk.

"Wait, Nico, the water!" Percy called, panicked as he sprang forward to stop the man but Nico ignored him and  _stepped into the water,_ bending to let the current run into the bucket. Before Percy could reach the edge of the bank, Nico spun around and held the now full bucket out to him.

"There," he grumbled, shoving the bucket into Percy's hands. "A full bucket. Now don't—careful!—don't spill any of it."

Percy held the bucket gingerly, holding it half a length from his body. "Oh. Ah. Thanks? How are you standing—?"

Nico shifted, his eyes flickering around as he shoved his hands inside his jacket. "Doesn't affect me."

"Neat," Percy said, impressed, "that must come in handy."

Nico lips twitched and he leveled Percy with a disbelieving, exasperated look, "It's not like there are often people in Melinoë's realm to need my help."

"Right," Percy said, chuckling to himself. "Well, thanks man. I appreciate it. Just, how times did I forget your name?"

"Three."

"Yikes, my bad." Pause. "Who's Melinoë?"

"The ruler of this realm." Nico's face was impassive. "She's the one who gave you the tasks."

"Oh."

They fell into step as they walked away from the river, Nico kind of hunching into himself like a weird turtle or something.

"You said people don't often need your help," Percy recalled. "Is that because people don't often get stuck down here or does the demon not-lady have an array of crazy tasks?"

Nico peered at Percy out of the corner of his eye. Percy made sure to walk nice and even, the water sloshing around inside the bucket but not in danger of splashing out.

"People like you don't often get stuck," he said after a pause.

Percy thought about that. "What do you mean people like me?"

Nico gave an awkward, one shoulder shrug. "I mean people like . . . you."

 _What an explanation_ that  _was,_ Percy thought, opening his mouth to argue when Nico cut in.

"Just—nevermind. Don't spill any of the water."

"I haven't, I'm being very—" a wind suddenly picked up, startling the stagnant air into brief swirling currents, the field grew darker, and Nico disappeared.

Percy blinked stupidly at the place he had been moments before. What in the—?!

"Dude." The word broke free from Percy's slack jaw of its own accord as its speaker twisted around, searching for the missing man.

But Percy was alone, dry grass scraping against his mudded pants. The water sloshed around in the bucket as he twisted, Nico's parting words biting him in the ass as a droplet or two spilled over the top— _don't spill any of the water._ Whoops. The water fell harmlessly onto the barren field as Percy froze, tracking his package's precarious contents. The water sloshed around some more, but the innocuous liquid stayed within the harmless bounds of the bucket.

_Phew._

"But  _dude_ ," Percy complained out loud, careful not to twist around like a manic in search of Nico. "Give a guy some warning next time before you just,  _poof._ I mean, who even does that?"

Nobody answered him. Percy began to walk again, holding his cargo carefully. He kept an eye out for his new strange friend but the only figures that emerged in his sight were the meandering ghost-things the closer he got to Melinoë's halls. Heading back in, he finally got the opportunity to survey the building, being a little too busy trying to get the hell out last time he'd been there. The building looked to be in decay, stones crumbling and dried, dead growth sticking out from cracks. The architecture appeared strangely familiar. Percy tilted his head to the side as he walked, trying to figure out why.

 _It must have once been regal,_ Percy thought.  _A royal palace._

As he crossed under the gaping hole that served as a door, the familiarity hit him: the Pantheon. It reminded him of the Pantheon.

Percy wasn't sure what the etiquette on summoning Melinoë was, she hadn't exactly given him many directions.

"Hello?" He called, his footsteps echoing loudly in the hollow space. "Melinoë?"  _Ma'am? Your_ Highness _?_  What title did she even have?

He had a split second to wonder if he was even allowed to speak her name—Nico hadn't said anything about that had he?—when the swirling mass returned. It was significantly less dramatic this time; it appeared one second and in the same time, the demon stepped forth from within with very little pomp and circumstance. Percy figured he appreciated her relative chill.

Melinoë was just as terrifying the second time as the first, the two unlike halves of her face disconcerting as she bared her teeth at him.

"Got your water," Percy declared, holding the bucket out.

"Oh?" The she-demon hissed, her unmatched mouth pulling back into a horrifying smile. "Let me see then."

She snatched the bucket from his hands and dipped two fingers inside. Her twisted grin, well, twisted.

"What is this?" she demanded, clutching the bucket against her as she turned the gaping holes in her face to Percy. "What is this?'

"The water you asked for?" Percy reminded her, brow furrowing. "I mean—you said, fill the bucket with water from the river, and I did."

He bit his tongue before a ' _right?'_ could follow his words. No, she said that, she definitely said that and he was going to stand his ground.

"How did you draw the water?"

"Put the bucket in, take the bucket out." Percy mimed the action, dipping his arms down like he was drawing water.

"You cannot touch the water."

"I, um, I don't remember touching the water—"

"You  _have_ to, the bucket is designed that way."

Percy vaguely remembered Nico saying something of the sort. Percy briefly thought about admitting Nico helped him, but change his mind as soon as the thought occurred to him. She might accuse him of cheating (not that any rules had been laid) or keep him down here for all eternity.

Melinoë's lips pressed together, breathing heavily. "How did you do it?"

"You never said I had to do it a certain way," Percy avoided. "You just said fill the bucket. The bucket is filled. What's my next task?"

An honest to Zeus hiss escaped Melinoë's lips, sending shivers down Percy's spin.

"Fine. The bucket is full," the words were spoken in the same horrifying hiss, "congratulations. I will collect you tomorrow for your next task. Be ready, son of the light, and enjoy your little victory for it  _will_ be brief."

With that parting warning, Melinoë disappeared the way she came, disappearing into the swirling darkness.

"What is with people around here and the disappearing into thin air?" Percy grumbled to himself, reaching up to rub at his arm where goosebumps had broken out during Melinoë's dramatic exit.

With the she-demon gone, the halls were quiet. Percy hovered in his spot for a moment, rocking back and forth on his heels and looking over his shoulder. So that was . . . that was it? First task, checkmark complete? What was he supposed to do until tomorrow?

"I don't suppose she has any guest rooms," Percy muttered, moving forward.

Time escaped him. He could have ate those damned three seeds an hour ago or three days ago, he wasn't sure. The not-sky gave no indication of time and inside the stagnant air of Melinoë's (castle?) building, time proved even more elusive. When tomorrow came, he only hoped Melinoë would fetch him.

The hall stretched on for an eternity before the colorless walls narrowed and began a passageway. Percy trailed his hand along the cracked stone, letting his fingertips trace all the crevasses and dips. A crumpling hole took shape along the wall and Percy peered inside. The new room was large, almost as large as the entrance room. Broken chandeliers hung from the ceiling, glass scattered across the floor below them and spider webs stretching along their rusted edges. Percy pulled his head out and continued down the hall. The next opening revealed the decaying remains of a dining hall, once grand chairs now faded and covered in mold, a long table riddled with holes.

 _Is there anything in this palace that isn't broken or decaying?_ Percy wondered as he continued down the hall.

A shadow caught his eye and Percy whirled, catching a glimpse of the figure before it vanished.

"Nico?" Percy called, taking a hurried step forward. "Wait!"

To his surprise, Nico actually hesitated, lingering in the shadows long enough for Percy to reach his side.

"Man, am I ever glad to see you!" Percy greeted with a grin, coming to a skidding halt before the guy. "Hey, what are you doing here?"

Nico's cheeks turned a blotchy red and he coughed, bringing his hands up to partially cover his face, "Just . . . looking—watching—I mean. Did Melinoë accept the bucket?"

"Yeah, dude, she did. And don't worry, I kept your name out of it."

"That was surprisingly . . . tactful of you."

"Thanks," Percy grinned, "I have my moments. So, do you live around here or what?"

"I live in the domain of Melinoë."

Percy had no idea what that meant.

"So like in this castle or what?"

"I don't normally like to linger in the castle," Nico admitted, his shoulders hunched as he finally lowered his hands only to shove them deep in his pockets. His eyes flickered around the room, alert and kind of dangerous looking. Oddly enough it made Percy's shoulder relax, a strange comfort descending over him at the guy's vigilance.

"Yeah, it's super dead and creepy in here," Percy agreed.

Nico hummed at that, not saying much as he ducked his head, staring at the ground as though the cracked floor was infinitely interesting.

"So," Percy said after a moment of awkward silence. At least, awkward for him. Maybe Nico was used to silence. He did live in Melinoë's creepy underground world, with only the demon herself and the weird maybe-ghosts for company. Percy decided the silence was probably totally normal and not at all awkward for the guy, unlike Percy who couldn't stand more than like, five seconds of silence before his mind started to ramble—like now, with Nico staring at him with one raised eyebrow wondering where his lost 'so' was heading.

"Did you fail your three tasks or what's the deal buddy, why are you down here?" Percy asked, quickly returning his original train of thought before his awful, short attention span ran amok again.

Nico snorted, his face twisting so his nose wrinkled up and he looked slightly less depressing, "You're not a real tactful guy are you?"

"No, not really, sorry," Percy admitted with a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck. "That was kind of an asshole thing to say wasn't it? I'm sorry you don't have to answer—"

"I didn't have three tasks," Nico cut him off to say. "I was condemned to punish my father. Melinoë couldn't touch him so she went for the next best thing."

Nico ended this awful statement with a shrug of his shoulders, looking far too nonchalant for the temper that boiled in Percy at his words.

"What?" Percy exclaimed in outrage. "But—but that's not fair! You didn't do anything wrong, why should you get punished?"

Nico's shoulders hunched again as he slouched over. The movement cast shadows across his face and he suddenly seemed eons old, ancient and timeless. It made something in Percy's chest seized, made him want to reach out and make the shadows disappear. Nobody deserved to look like that, especially not someone who helped lost and clueless idiots fill up buckets with memory stealing water. Or something.

"Because she couldn't touch him."

"What the hell! You shouldn't have to—that's not!" Percy was so angry he couldn't even form words. "For all eternity?"

"Pretty much yeah."

Percy sputtered some more. "That's—that's—how can? Your dad never—?" Nico shook his head, whether in answer to Percy's unasked question or in warning not to ask it Percy wasn't sure but the words weren't coming out anyway so it didn't really matter.

"Dammit man," Percy whined finally. "Now I just want to hug you."

Nico's eyes widened to a comical degree. His ears were pink again. "That, um," Nico coughed, "um—"

"Don't worry I won't," Percy dismissed with a wave of his hand. "But how  _dare_ she? How  _dare she?_ I mean, I've heard of some rotten thing—I work at a castle up top you know—" he pointed up as if to somehow illuminate his point "—and they say some awful things and do some terrible stuff, but man. Man, that really sucks."

He paused, looking at Nico. There were permeate bags under his eyes, a permeant skeletal form to his frame. Percy wondered when the last time he saw the sun was.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," Nico snorted.

"I'm sorry this happened to you."

"Yeah well," Nico rubbed the back of his head. "Thanks. But I can take care of myself."

"Well I mean you can touch the forget water, so that's pretty badass."

Nico snorted, rolling his eyes. His lips gave a finite twitch, his shoulders relaxing. "You're a strange one, you know that?"

"Psh, says the guy who can literally disappear into thin air."

"It's not thin air—"

"Fine, foggy air—"

A grin twitched up Nico's face, even though the guy obviously fought to keep it down. "I can disappear into the shadows—"

"Oh yes, the shadows, how silly of me,  _everybody_ can do that."

Nico ducked his head, coughing rather sporadically into his hands.

"That's a laugh, don't even try to hide it behind those fake coughs shadow boy," Percy accused.

Nico 'coughed' some more, turning so all Percy could see was the back of his head and his shaking shoulders.  _Psh,_ Percy didn't know who he thought he was fooling. It was a lame joke though, definitely not one of Percy's better (and trust him, Percy was  _hysterical_ , just ask anyone at the palace . . . except the princes). It made him wonder when the last time Nico laughed was, which was a sad thought.

When Nico turned back around, his hysterical 'cough' all cleared up. Something must have shown on Percy's face before the impassive mask slide over Nico's face.

"Come on, you have to be tired, I'll show you the only good place here to sleep."

"Is it covered in mold?"

"Just decaying a little."

"Oh yay, only a little," Percy said, trying to reel back in the atmosphere from before but Nico was already walking on ahead.

Percy sighed then jogged to keep up. Nico took him down a long, twisting corridor, pointing out various landmarks to help him, which weren't exactly helpful ("there's the three one-eyed witch statue, turn left", "painting of three dead guys stay straight", "I don't know what that is but make sure you pass it").

"Oh, this is . . . cozy," Percy said when Nico announced they had arrived.

Their heads peeked inside a room that, true to Nico's word, was less decayed than the rest of the dark castle.  _At least, everything wasn't covered in mold in this one_ , Percy thought. There was a bed in the corner that looked like it had only been sort of chewed on by a horde of moths, the floor wasn't cracked, and the ceiling seemed in good repair.

"It's the best I know of."

"Thanks man," Percy said and he meant it. Sure the room was pretty terrifying but it didn't look liable to collapse or spew toxic spores at him so that was a win. Besides, he apparently needed a place to sleep tonight (thanks Melinoë).

Nico shifted from side to side, his head half ducked. "Yeah well . . . it's not much."

"It's not like it's your castle," Percy said with a shrug. "So, really, I appreciate it. That's really cool of you."

"It's really not much," Nico grumbled. "But whatever, weirdo. Get some sleep. Melinoë will have a second task for you tomorrow."

"Don't suppose you'd know what it might be?" Percy hedged.

"No."

"Yeah that's what I was afraid of. Well, thanks again Nico."

"Don't mention it. Seriously."


	2. Gildable

While Percy would've liked to have said his sleep was peaceful, that would be a lie. He managed to fall into a restless sleep, half of his mind still on red alert for strange sounds and unwanted visitors here in Melinoë's decaying castle. None came to call but that did little to soothe Percy's nerves.  _What would his second task be?_ There really was no telling. Percy's mother passed away when he was just a boy and the remanence of the old tales she used to tell him were fuzzy and fragmented in his memory. He couldn't remember a Melinoë.

He dozed sporadically and dreamed in gray; a woman held her hand out to him, her face haggard and worn and he wanted to help her, he did, he held his hand out only she disappeared in a puff of smoke; the forgettable river was running, faster and faster, its waves lapping high and higher against the shore and that was dangerous, he couldn't let it touch him, he didn't want to forget— _don't touch the water—_ the waves burst from the shore to crash over him, icy fingers clawing at his face, his throat, his lungs but  _he couldn't forget_ ; Nico, standing alone in the empty field, a sword drawn; Percy reached out towards him but Nico couldn't see him; the hand with the skull ring held the sword and in the lightless gloom the sullen trinket formed a blinding glow;  _you can't keep me here; you can't keep me here—_

Percy woke with a gasp, suddenly aware of a second presence. He was upright in a moment, hand clutching for a weapon, for anything, only to grab . . . a flower?

"What the—?" Percy gasped, twisting around.

He wasn't in the moth-eaten bed. In fact, he wasn't even in Melinoë's desolate castle anymore. He was . . . on a hill? Full of . . . Percy blinked at the golden little plant in his hand. Full of dandelions.

"Greetings, child of the light, I am confident you slept restlessly?"

Percy craned his head up and managed not to flinch as he stared into the gaping holes were Melinoë's eyes should be.

"I did, thank you for that," he snapped, fairly certain that sarcasm was a bad choice but too irritable to really care.

He scrambled to his feet, the stupid dandelion still clutched in one fist as he pushed himself upright.

"Where am I?" He demanded, squinting as he surveyed his new surroundings.

He was on a hill full of dandelions—like seriously  _full_. Every inch of ground was covered in little yellow buds. It was . . . oddly cheerful actually, the wide expanse of bright yellow little flowers spread out across the visible land—oh okay he lied, there was that desolate field of overgrown grass to the left, like, five miles out. So it was a tiny area that was utterly covered in dandelions. Hm. Still oddly cheerful.

"What's up with all the dandelions?" Percy asked, forking his thumb at the overgrowth of oddly cheerful flowers.

Melinoë ignored this question as she did his first one. "Dandelions are weeds. They grow in voracious numbers, easily overtaking fields and pastures with their insatiable greed, strangling crops to their doom and overtaking farms."

"O-kay," Percy said, "but they're still pretty."

Melinoë scowled and the very air around them grew colder. "Not if they ruin your livelihood and dreams they aren't."

Percy didn't know what to say to that so he decided to keep his mouth shut this time. It was probably the wisest option anyway.

"So what's my second task?" he asked.

Melinoë dramatically swept her arm to the side, motioning towards the overgrowth of dandelions.

"Make wine out of the weeds by tonight and you will complete the second task."

"Wait—what?" Percy blinked at her and a terrible two-sided grin edged up her face like a knife. "These are—that's not—wine?"

"Wine, by tonight. Tick, tock, tick, tock, child of the light," Melinoë hissed, her grin terrible and boastful as she disappeared via her usual fashion, in a swirl of darkness.

Percy stayed where he was, staring out at the dandelions with a kind of horror. In a state of disbelieve, he brought the dandelion in his hand up to his nose. His hand was stained yellow from the powered of the flower, the petals lying in torn pieces from his tight grip. It smelled like any other dandelion, earthy but otherwise unremarkable.

_Wine?!_

Grapes made wine, or strawberries if you were that strange strawberry farmer to the east—but  _dandelions?_ Percy had never heard of  _dandelion_ wine. And regular wine took  _ages_ to make anyway! Months, years as the guy at the strawberry farm claimed! How was Percy supposed to do that in one day, much less with a field full of dandelions?

Percy dropped his crushed dandelion, watching it fall to the yellow coated ground. He walked forward, crushing dandelions underfoot as he wandered, staring at all the stupid, still oddly pretty flowers—weeds—whatevers.

Percy bent over, picking a few as he went. He brought them up to his face like the first one, crushing them, rolling their petals in his hand, grinding them into little pieces with rocks—anything to see if a liquid could be made. No such luck. A gross, sticky yellow powder stuck to his fingers, but the flowers refused to yield anything remotely close to a wine.

Percy sat atop the hill and put his head between his knees.  _Think, think, think,_ he urged himself but it was useless. He wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed.  _Turned dandelions into wine,_ he thought scornfully.  _What a terrible task._ What did it prove? What did it accomplish? That wasn't a test at all, it was a failure all wrapped up and ready for him.

Percy's head snapped up. His eyes, carefully and slowly, surveyed the world around him, suddenly aware that someone was watching him.

"Hello?" He called, narrowing his eyes. He was frustrated enough to take on anything, let some ghost or ghoul or whatever try him. He was  _so_ not in the mood. "Come out so I can—!"

Whatever threat he may have delivered cut off as Nico suddenly sat before him.

"Nico?" Percy pulled back in confusion. Then he grinned, leaning forward to slap the guy on the knee. "Nico! Man am I glad to see you."

Nico's brow furrowed. "Um . . . sure, okay."

"Thanks for taking me to the room, I didn't sleep terribly."

"Yes you did," Nico snorted.

"I mean,  _yes_ , but not as terribly as I would have sleeping on the cold floor like I was going to, which would have been  _not at all_  so."

Nico's lips twitched. "So you slept terribly."

"I slept terribly but I slept," Percy agreed with a crooked grin and Nico's lips twitched all the way up to a smile.

"Sorry if a pea kept you awake all night," Nico said dryly.

"Why would a pea keep me awake?" Percy asked, confused. "It'd be so small I wouldn't feel it? Besides, it was the creaks in the night and the creepy, decaying castle."

"It's a—nevermind," Nico sighed.

"No, wait what am I missing?"

"It's a fairytale," Nico muttered under his breath, not looking Percy in the eye. "About a princess who couldn't sleep because of a . . . pea in her bed, never mind it's stupid."

"If my life were a fairytale, I'd hope to be something cooler than some princess that couldn't sleep because of a pea in her mattress," Percy complained, uprooting another dandelion and toyed with it between his already yellow stained hands.

"If this were a fairytale, you'd still be the princess in the scenario," Nico snickered, sitting down across from Percy. "Stolen away from the earth by an evil demon to her dark castle."

"Yeah I guess that true," Percy grumbled, frowning. He toyed with the dandelion in his hand, tearing petals off at random and tossing them into Nico's hair. They stuck, bright blips of yellow against Nico's dark hair. It was kind of hysterical. Percy brightened, "But princesses are always beautiful and generally wonderful people, so that's like a compliment right?"

Nico snorted, causing dandelion petals to fall out of hair and careen down his face.

"Don't laugh buddy," Percy warned, pointing what was left of the mutilated flower at the guy. "If I'm the princess, then you're my knight in shining armor. Always rushing in at the last second to save me. My hero."

He batted his eyelashes at Nico, who flushed all the way up to his ears.

"Whatever," Nico grumbled, shaking the rest of the dandelion bits from his hair. "Stop throwing flowers at me."

"I wasn't throwing flowers at you, just petals.  _This_ is throwing flowers." Percy threw the mutilated flower, stem and all, at Nico.

"You're not funny," Nico said, which was utterly undermined by the half smile quirked on his face.

"You know I'm hysterical," Percy dismissed, reaching for another dandelion.

"Throw another flower, or any part of a flower, at me again and I will throw you down this hill," Nico warned, glaring at the flower in Percy's hand like it personally offended him.

"What's up, you don't like the flowers? I mean, they're kind of small but their bright yellow and oddly cheerful," Percy said as he picked several more, piling them all on his lap.

They weren't turning into wine, just staring up at him with their oddly cheerful coloring, which was kind of depressing. He needed something to distract him or he was going to spiral. He looked up expectantly at Nico.

"It's a long story," Nico muttered.

"I've got a time," Percy said with a sigh, staring at the flowers on his lap. "So, have at it."

"My stepmother turned me into a dandelion."

Percy's first thought was  _that wasn't long at all,_ followed by  _she turned him into a what?_

"She turned you into a  _what?"_ Percy voiced because it seemed the more important of the two thoughts. Then, "Wait, she  _turned_ you into something? Like she's a—"

"Not a witch," Nico grumbled. "Just a . . . nymph of sorts. And a dandelion." Nico glared at the offensive flowers on Percy's lap.

"Dude," Percy said sympathetically. "Why?"

"Because I exist." Nico didn't look at Percy as he said it, turning his attention to the flowers around him. He reached out and crushed one of the dandelions before him, its bright yellow suddenly extinguishing as Nico's dark hand crushed it.

Evil stepmom, Percy's mind translated. He'd heard stories about them.

"That sucks," he said, clicking his tongue.

He fought the urge to throw more dandelion petals at the guy—giving his oddly specific traumatic past it seemed insensitive—instead, he put his hands to work. He always had trouble staying still, especially when he was anxious. Like now, facing an eternity stuck down here in what might very well be Hades. He started tying the dandelion stems together.

"But didn't your dad object?"

"Yeah, she eventually turned me back," Nico sighed.

Percy stared at the forlorn guy. He was staring at the dandelion he crushed, wiping his now yellow palm against his black pants. He didn't look sad so much as resigned and it tugged at something in Percy's chest.

"Why are you here, Nico?" Percy asked softly.

"I told you."

"What did your dad do?"

"Broke a promise."

"That's it?" Percy demanded, his temper flaring. "Your dad breaks a promise and you land here—?"

"A vow on the river Styx."

Percy sucked in a sharp breath. Damn, okay, that was a bit more than a promise.

"But how did that come down to affect you and not him?" Percy asked softly.

"It's—" Nico shook his head. "He swore not to have any more kids by a woman other than his wife, my stepmom. But he broke that when he sired me."

"Oh." Percy didn't know what else to say. A  _but that's still not fair to punish_ you  _for it_  was on the tip of his tongue but Nico starting talking before he could voice his outrage.

"What are you doing sitting here anyway, Perseus," Nico demanded. "Don't you have another task to accomplish today?"

"Yeah." Percy looked down at the dandelions on his lap. He had twisted a long string of the yellow menaces into a lopsided flower crown that hung just a little limp in his hands.

He sighed, closing his eyes. "I don't know, Nico, Melinoë's an evil witch. She gave me an impossible task. You might be stuck with me for a while."

He tried for a grin but failed miserably. His face didn't move the way he wanted it too, kind of stiff and twitchy. He kept his gaze on the stupid flower crown.

"What is she having you do?" Nico asked each word spoken slowly.

Percy gestured towards all the dandelions. "Turn dandelions into wine." He gave a bitter laugh, which was dangerously close to a sob. He cleared his throat, still not looking at Nico.

Nico was silent.

"Do people really even  _drink_ flowers?" Percy exclaimed, throwing the stupid crown on the ground. "I don't even think they do." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "What's she going to do when I can't?"

Nico was silent.

"I could do it."

Percy's head snapped up. Nico stared at his yellow stained hands, not watching him. "What, seriously? How can you—"

"But you'd have to close your eyes."

Percy didn't hesitate, squeezing his eyes shut. He heard Nico inhale sharply, a kind of shaky sound and he almost opened them again to make sure the guy was alright. He resisted the temptation, settling for a:

"Alright there buddy?"

"Fine. Keep them closed."

Percy kept his eyes closed. He could feel a change in the air. The hairs on his arm raised, his skin tingled but he kept his eyes closed for what felt like an eternity. He could hear the rustle of a wind, a low moan carried from somewhere far away, but he ignored it in favor of the steady sound of Nico breathing.

He could feel Nico sit back down, the heat of a second body tingling along his outstretched legs.

"Okay."

"I can open them now?"

"Yes, you idiot."

"Hey, there's no need for the name calling—"

Percy cut off sharply as he opened his eyes. The dandelions were gone. Nico did indeed sit across from Percy and in his hands was a bottle of golden liquid.

" _Dude,_ " Percy gasped in disbelief. He reached forward and Nico let him take the bottle. It was cold to the touch and when he brought it up to his nose, he could smell the alcohol inside.

" _Dude,_ " Percy repeated in awe, staring at Nico. "That's—how'd you  _do_ that?"

Nico's ears were red again. "It's nothing," he tried to mutter.

" _Dude,_ no. You literally just saved my life. You really are my knight in shining armor!"

Nico fidgeted with the ring on his finger, muttered something unintelligible under his breath. The world around him grew dark and then suddenly he was gone, leaving Percy alone on the barren hill with his bottle of wine.

"Nico?" Percy blinked in shock at the place his new friend once sat. "Dude, you really gotta stop doing that!"

Percy waited but Nico didn't magically reappear. The wind vanished with his strange new friend and the hill felt cold and desolate without the dandelions. Clutching the wine, Percy came to his feet.

"I don't know where you ran off to but thanks, Nico," Percy told the silent hill.

Silence answered him, not that he expected anything more. With that silent farewell, he set off down the hill towards the overgrown field of grass to his left. The walk back took  _forever._ Not that Percy had any way to judge time down here in Melinoë's desolate land but it felt like an eternity. Percy dragged his feet through the dry, overgrown grass, wondering idly in what direction the river was. He could kind of see the dark silhouette of Melinoë's castle in the distance so he trudged towards that, grateful for some kind of familiarity in the gloom. The creepy maybe-ghosts were out again, milling aimlessly across the field.

Percy clutched the wine closer and avoided them.

His feet  _ached_ by the time he finally darkened Melinoë's, well, dark door. Percy was no stranger to long walks—the walk from the palace up above and the rundown shack that served as his home was no short distance—but  _gods_. He collapsed on the steps of Melinoë's crumbling palace, careful not to jostle the wine.

"Ow," he whined to himself, rubbing his aching calves. Honestly, could she have put him any  _farther_ away from the palace?

"Back so soon?"

Percy jumped at the hiss, forgetting himself for a moment and almost knocking the wine bottle over. He steadied it in time, heart thumping painfully in his chest. Whoa, that was close! Nico would probably  _kill_ him if he broke the stupid bottle!

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I  _scare_ you?" Melinoë cackled, coming around to stand before Percy.

Percy didn't like how she looked down at him, like he was some insect she couldn't wait to squash. He also didn't like being literally beneath her, him sitting on the floor and all, so he scrambled to his feet.

"I did not think you would concede defeat so easily," Melinoë hissed, her two-toned lips twisted into a terrible smirk.

"Ah, no?" Percy scoffed, holding the bottle of golden wine out. "Voilà."

The smirk twisted on Melinoë's face, morphing into a snarl as she tore the bottle from Percy's grasp.

"Impossible!" She cried, holding the liquid up to her, well, not-eyes. "You cannot deceive me, child of the light, you cannot. What trickery is this? Powder mixed with water?"

She tipped the bottle, holding it up to her mouth . . . only to freeze. Percy recalled how he could smell the alcohol when he held the bottle up to his nose earlier and knew she could smell the truth. He tried to squash his smug grin. She lowered the bottle, face expressionless.

"So, do I pass?" Percy asked, biting the inside of his mouth to keep his cheeky grin at bay.

It was the wrong thing to say. Melinoë reached forward, fisting her hand in his tattered shirt. There was an uncomfortable tugging sensation around his mid-drift and they were in a different place. Percy collapsed to the floor when Melinoë's clawlike grip released him, gasping. He ran a hand over himself, checking everything. Legs still there, arms, check, fingers, neck, check, check. What the hell then? Percy gasped again, looking up. He was in the moth-eaten bedroom from the night before.

"You will not escape from me so easily," Melinoë hissed and she sounded like darkness itself. "Revel in your arrogance, child of the light, for it shall be short lived. Tomorrow you meet your doom. You will not leave this room until I fetch you."

Wine clutched in one hand, Melinoë vanished into a chaotic swirl of darkness, taking every last ounce of warmth from the room with her. Percy shivered, his breath coming out in puffy white blooms as he pushed himself to his feet.

"Someb-body's a s-sore loser," he gasped out, his teeth chattering so violently they threatened to chop off his tongue.

He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to rub warmth back into his body. He didn't bother trying the door—trying Melinoë's temper didn't sound like a wise idea right now—but dragged himself over to the bed. The blanket there was threadbare and hole ridden but Percy wrapped it tightly around himself, ignore the particles that shook from its colorless fabric to hang eerily in the air. He made himself as small as possible, probably inhaling like a year's worth of dust and insect eggs as he burrowed into the bed.

But gah, it was so cold!

 _I could really use that wine about now,_ Percy thought and maybe the darkness was all going to his head because a couple deranged giggles escaped his lips.

But he did it, he finished the second task! Well . . . actually, Nico finished the second task but again, Melinoë never specified. He only had one more task and he could go back to the world of light. He longed to feel the sun on his skin, missed the warmth of the living. Percy's eyes drifted shut. He would miss Nico though, even if the guy had the bad habit of disappearing into thin air. It was impossible to know for sure, but Percy felt like time had passed when he cracked an eye open again. The dust in the air had settled at least. Creaks echoed in the night (or day, maybe, who knew).

"Who's there?" Percy called, not moving from his place bundled up in the corner.

Someone was watching him, he could feel it in every fiber of his being. He was also, like, mostly sure he knew who it was too.

"Nico?"

The darkness didn't answer him.

"She didn't like the wine but I passed the second test."

The bed beneath him groaned as Percy squirmed on the bed. He couldn't quite get all his body under the blanket. He tucked his chin into his knees, staring unblinkingly into the mass of darkness.

"Thanks for helping me."

Percy's eyes were threatening to close again. He let them. Safe was a word he would never use to describe how he felt in Melinoë's castle but he felt secure enough in that moment to drift in and out of consciousness.

"You don' have t'hide in the shadows," Percy half slurred into his knees. Something stirred had stirred the dust up again. It drifted hazily in the air, white glimmers that floated like snowflakes in the night. In another world, they may have been called beautiful.

Percy closed his eyes and slept.

* * *

Percy awoke in the moth-eaten room. He figured the sight of the half decayed, dust filled room shouldn't fill him with as much relief as it did. His back  _ached_ from the balled up positon he held all night. At least he managed to get some sleep, Percy reasoned as he tried to realign his spine. It gave a sickening  _crack_ that he might've worried about if it weren't for the immense relief it afforded him. He threw the sad excuse for a blanket off him, heaving himself up and onto his feet.

Percy crept to the door. His hand closed around the doorknob as Melinoë's words came back to him:  _You will not leave this room until I fetch you._

Hm.

He probably shouldn't piss her off. But Percy  _hated_ waiting. He stood there debating with himself—go, stay, go, stay—when the door swung open beneath his fingertips.

"I didn't open it!" Percy immediately defended himself as Melinoë's terrible figure filled the doorway.

"Perhaps I should have tarried a bit longer," the demon hissed, her charred hand curling around the rotten door frame. "And I wouldn't have to deal with you any longer."

"But you didn't," Percy quickly reminded her as relief flooded his body. Thank the gods she burst in when she had. His impatience and short attention span would have opened that door before long.

"I have decided on your third task." Melinoë grinned, horrifying as always, and the smugness that lingered in the corners of her mouth did not bode well for him.

"Alright," Percy warily said. "What is it?"

"You will retrieve something for me."

Percy waited. Melinoë grinned at him, the darkness swirling around her ankles like strange, horrifying gaseous puppies curling close to mama. That was a disturbing thought so Percy forcefully blinked it away, focusing on the demon's face.

"What will I retrieve?" Gods, it was like pulling teeth, why didn't she just spit it all out?

"An urn."

Morbid. Percy couldn't say he was particularly surprised. "A specific urn or—?"

"From Eurynomos."

"Who's Euryno—Euro—E— _that_ , who is that?"

"Eurynomos."

"Whatever, who are they?"

Melinoë's grin widened increment by increment as Percy watched uncomfortably, shifting from foot to foot. Well, this really didn't bode well for him. Was Eurynomos even a  _who_ and not a  _what?_ She didn't really specify. Would it be like her, torn between two unlike halves?

"A friend. You have until tonight."

"That's a terrible time frame I don't even know what time it is  _now._ That could be in like five minutes or ten hours, I wouldn't know."

"Twelve hours."

"Oh, that's . . . more generous than I'd thought you'd be," Percy said, blinking up at the demon. He squinted. "Twelve hours?"

"Yes, child of the light, twelve hours."

"And how am I supposed to know when that time's up? There's not exactly a sun I can tell by."

Melinoë held out her hand and the darkness, like an excited sentient being, leapt from among her ankles to swirl around the offered arm. It caressed her like water, swirling up and around before settling back at her feet. As her hand became visible once more, he spied a strange brand now laying in her charred palm. She held it out to him. Percy reluctantly took it, almost dropping it in surprise when it fell into his outstretched palm—it was hot!

"Your time wanes as the band grows cold," Melinoë declared. "When it is finally cold, your time is up."

"Oh . . . okay." Percy held the band pinched between two fingers. Melinoë stared at him. "I guess I'll just . . . put it on then?"

He swore the demon rolled her eyes as he turned from her, fiddling with the still hot to the touch piece of jewelry as he fashioned it to his wrist. The heat was uncomfortable, his skin turned clammy almost instantly and he really, really wanted to itch under the stupid thing. He curled his hands into fists, resisting the urge. At least in front of the demon-lady.

"Head east, towards the forest," Melinoë instructed and suddenly they were outside the crumbling palace.

As Percy recoiled in shock, the vaguely ill sensation settling over him like the night before, Melinoë raised her waxy hand towards the blackened trees Percy avidly avoided during the first task.

"Eurynomos lies beyond these trees. It shall be the only house you encounter. Bring me the urn and you shall walk the warmth of the earth once more."

" _The_ urn or just  _an_ urn because I don't—?"

"You'll know," Melinoë promised and her grin was the stuff of nightmares.

 _That's not vague or unhelpful,_ Percy despaired with an internal roll of his eyes. "Alright," he said out loud. "So I'll just—"

He made a gesture towards the dark, imposing trees in the distance. Melinoë made neither sound nor movement which Percy interpreted as his dismissal. He took a step forward. The she-demon stayed where she was. Percy didn't really want to turn his back on her so he shuffled awkwardly away, eyeing her distrustfully. Only when the dry overgrowth of the grass field began brushing against his shins did he dare turn around.

"Oh, and child of the light?"

Percy whirled around, muscles tensing.

"Be careful to whom you grant your trust in my realm." The darkness had begun enveloping Melinoë, her body part of the gloom itself. The burnt, shriveled half of her body disappeared, blending into the darkness, while the other remained starkly prominent.

"There are few that wander my paths that are among the living and none without their darkness. The one they call Ghost King lives here and many have fallen victim to his wiles. Be wary and wise. It would be a shame if you were to be . . . tricked or misguided by the portends of companionship."

Percy's brow furrowed but before he could form any response, the demon was gone, leaving him alone in the whispering field while Eurynomos' forest looming ahead.


	3. Chapter 3

The closer Percy got to Eurynomos' forest the less convinced he was that _was_ an actual forest. The tree-like structures were blacker than night and perfect in their stillness. As observed on his first day, they were void of anything that might be considered foliage. They stretched on far above Percy's head and as he peered into the forest, little light seemed to penetrate their imposing bark.

_Right,_ Percy thought. _No big deal._ He would just stroll through the creepy maybe-forest until he reached Eurynomos' house. No biggie. Steeling his nerves, Percy held his head high and took a step inside the forest. His foot made no sound as it landed on the hard ground and nothing rushed out to eat him. He took that as a good sign. Three steps in and Percy had to blink fiercely to adjust to the sudden drop in light.

_Last task, last task, last task,_ Percy repeated to himself, hoping the chant would somehow inspire confidence in his breast.

The hairs on the back of his neck rose as he pushed deeper into the forest. He paused, casting his eyes around the dense space. Nothing moved. Nothing made a sound.

"Nico?" Percy called, body tense. Nothing came forth from the shadows.

"Nico, dude, I really hope that's you because it would suck if it wasn't. Don't keep me in suspense."

Percy really hoped Nico was keeping him in suspense. The gloom of the forest pressed around him like something tangible, settling in his lungs and weighing him down with every slow inhale.

"C'mon Nics—" Percy wasn't willing to entertain the idea that it could be anything other than Nico lurking in the shadows "—hey, do you know who Eurynomos is?"

The gloom sparked in front of him and Percy reacted—he would have had his surprise guest in a headlock except they were gone as soon as they were there and Nico stared at him, one eyebrow raised, two arms lengths away.

"Dammit Nico," Percy gasped, clutching his chest like a damsel in distress. "Don't _do_ that."

"Eurynomos?" Nico repeated, invading Percy's personal space. His eyes were wild, jaw clenched.

"Yeah—Nico, can't you warn me like a normal person? I was literally calling your name—"

"You _can't go to_ _Eurynomos_ _'."_

Percy froze, frowning.

"What? What are you talking about Nics? I have to—Melinoë gave it to me as my final task. I gotta steal something, an urn or whatever. Hope it's not like a used ashes filled urn, because that'd be kind of gross—"

Nico reached out, grabbing Percy by the shoulders and yanking him closer until his nose was inches from Percy's own. Although his features were youthful, there was a weariness in the corner of his mouth, an eternity in his eyes. They were very nice eyes actually, the dark almost black irises weren't like the darkness that pressed around him the last few days—and oh Nico was talking.

"—you _can't_ Percy. Eurynomos is—is—" Nico's eyes flickered around Percy's face as he searched for words, mouth working soundlessly for a moment. "He's the _daimon_ of corpses."

Oh. That . . . was terrifying. A _daimon._ Of corpses. That seemed like just a little bit of overkill, whoever decided that.

"But I _have to,"_ Percy reminded Nico, reaching up to cover Nico's hands with his own. Nico's fingers dug into his skin, refusing to let go.

"Would it really be so bad to live down here?" Nico asked, eyes drilling into Percy's own. "I can protect you from Melinoë, she won't dare hurt you with me around. I know the world is dark but it has those stupid dandelions you thought were so cheerful and—and you'd be _alive_. I would keep you _safe,_ Percy, please, Eurynomos is . . . . He'll _kill_ you, without hesitation. He's giant and powerful and unstoppable and there's nothing I can do against him. I only have so much power down here, Percy. I can't save you from him."

"And I'm not asking you to," Percy said, gently prying Nico's death grip from his shoulders. He didn't let go of his fingers right away, squeezing them gently. Nico's eyes were wild and desperate and Percy's heart gave a little pang at the sight.

"I appreciate all your help Nico, but I don't need protection," Percy said, releasing Nico's fingers. "I'm not as helpless as I look."

He grinned . . . Nico didn't look particularly convinced. His mouth turned down, his face closing off.

"Would it be so terrible for you to live here." Nico's lips barely moved.

"No! Yes? I mean," Percy groaned, pressing a hand against his eyes. " _No,_ it wouldn't be terrible to be here with you, that'd be great, I really like you, Nico, you're great _._ But here? In Melinoë's realm? You _know_ that sucks. It's dark, it's gloomy, there's no sun or freedom and Melinoë rules, no matter what even you try to do about it. You said it yourself, you don't have that much power down here. _That_ would suck."

Nico's face didn't change. Percy allowed himself a moment to consider the offer. It really _wouldn't_ be terrible to spend forever with Nico. Percy _liked_ him, a lot. He'd done so much for Percy and always for nothing in return. But Melinoë ruled this realm, not Nico, not matter how hard he tried. There had to be a reason Nico disappeared when the she-demon was around. And there was no telling what she would do to him, to _them_ , if Percy stayed. She could lock Percy up, she could outright kill him. There was no saying what the she-demon would do. Staying here was no guarantee of safety, Nico had to know that.

Percy sighed. "I'm sorry Nico."

"I can take you to Eurynomos." Nico could have been made of stone for all he moved and emoted.

"Thank you."

Nico turned stiffly on his heel and began walking. Percy had to take quick strides to reach his side and made the mistake of looking over at Nico's face. It was hardened and blank and it tugged at Percy's heart until it felt like his insides were torn to pieces.

"Hey," Percy cleared his throat, valiantly shoving emotions back down his throat where they belonged, they couldn't do him any good now anyway. "Have you ever heard of the Ghost King?"

Nico's footsteps faltered which Percy took as a _yes_.

"Because Melinoë mentioned him too," Percy babbled. "She kind of warned him about him? Which is weird, don't know why she would try to help me? She said, how did she put it? Oh yes, he would misguide me under the 'portends of companionship'. Jokes on her, I have no idea what that means."

He tried to laugh but the sound came out strangled and kind of pathetic so he stopped. Nico, somehow, impossibly, stiffened even further at his side and Percy sighed.

"The Ghost King . . . ," Nico gave his own sigh, "the Ghost King won't bother you."

Nico offered nothing else so they walked in thick, depressing silence for a few more paces.

"Tell me about Nico," Percy blurted out as he ducked under a low-lying branch of one of the ink black trees.

"What are you going on about?" Nico snorted, his words laced with bitterness. He still wouldn't look Percy's way.

"I want to know more about you," Percy pressed. _Before I have to leave you_ went unsaid and Percy had to swallow hard.

"Haven't I already told you that story, twice now." Nico's face twisted, a scowl edged deep in his face.

Percy shrugged. "Not really. You told me about your dad and stepmom but not about you."

"I'm damned to Melinoë's realm for all of eternity," Nico reminded him, his voice expressionless.

"Yeah, but that's not who you are."

Nico fell silent for a moment. "There's not much to tell. I'm not very interesting."

"That's not true!" Percy objected, nudging the guy in the side. "You can disappear into _shadows_ , your sense of humor is almost as great as mine! And you helped this poor helpless idiot out of the goodness of your heart. That's pretty interesting if you ask me."

The tips of Nico's ears were red again.

"Come on," Percy all but begged, stepping close so their sides were almost pressed together. "Please, Nico?"

Nico sighed. "I had a sister—her name was Bianca. She was just barely older than me and it was only the two of us for a long time. And there was this stupid game I invented, it was really stupid and I was real young okay? And it was stupid but she played it and it was all about gods and goddesses and monsters or whatever—it was really dumb but she always played it with me—"

Percy watched as Nico talked, the shadow of a smile on his face as he spoke about his sister and his (really, really stupid) game they used to play. Percy couldn't keep a soft smile from his own face as he watched how Nico's eyes lit up with something almost akin to life talking about his dead sister and the things they used to play.

"She sounds amazing," Percy said when Nico's words trailed off, pandering into silence. "I bet that game wasn't half as stupid as you make it sound."

Nico didn't make any retort.

"Nico?"

"We're here." Nico stared forward, his lips barely moving. The warmth that settled into his voice when speaking of his sister vanished without a trace, icy stillness left in its place.

Percy stared at Nico's face a moment longer, at the curve of his dark eyes and the flat line of his mouth, before pivoting to spy what lay before them. The forest broke, the darkened branches of the trees curling away to reveal a house. Well, it was probably a house. It was house-shaped, albeit dark and broken in multiple places. A real fixer-upper that honestly looked beyond repair. There was no grass on the lawn just blackened soot and on the porch, the door stood half ajar. Percy craned his neck to see inside the darkened doorstep but could make out only shadows. When he turned his gaze back to the lawn he noticed white objects protruding from the soot. His stomach gave a sickening lurch—they were skeletons. A skull rested just before the porch, its mouth open in a grotesque grin.

"Eurynomos' abode."

Any other time Percy would have teased Nico about such an antiquated word—abode honestly—but the seriousness in the man's voice and the weight the words carried gave his tongue pause. Percy swallowed hard.

Percy felt Nico move and, turning, watched his hands curl into fists.

"You can't go," Nico said, breathing hard.

"I have to go," Percy reminded him, trying to keep his voice gentle

"Eurynomos will _kill you,_ don't you understand?"

"What will Melinoë do to me if I don't?"

" _I_ can protect you!" Nico all but shouted, emotions bursting through his stony exterior. He spun around, grabbing Percy by the arm hard enough to bruise. "I _will_ protect you, Melinoë won't—"

Percy let his hands curl around Nico's wrists. "And what then Nico? I can't hide in the shadows like you can. I can't touch the untouchable water or turn flowers into wine. I'm mortal, from the mortal realm. I need drinkable water and food and—and sunlight and warmth and _freedom_ —" Percy's voice broke and it was only then he realized there were tears in his eyes. He blinked hard, trying to get them to disappear. God but this was so hard.

"And I will die here, eventually. I'm mortal, I only live so long," Percy reminded him. "So really, no one gets me forever, you or Melinoë."

"I won't live my life in fear, under someone else's control or by someone else's rules, Nico. I can't do that."

Nico breathed heavily, fingers digging into Percy's arms. When Percy pulled at his wrist though, he didn't fight Percy, letting his fingers fall slack and the mortal man pushed him away.

"But hey," Percy said, unable to stop his voice from wavering a little. "If I fail, I'd like you to teach me that game."

"If you fail, Eurynomos will kill you."

"Yeah well." Percy couldn't look at Nico's face anymore. He turned his back and stepped out of the forest. "Maybe the Ghost King will bring me back to you."

If Nico had a response to that, Percy didn't hear it. The black soot outside Eurynomos' door burst into little dust storms with every step Percy took. He repressed a shiver as the cold cut through his thin clothes. He couldn't tell if the air was colder here or just felt that way without Nico beside him anymore. He made it all the way to the porch before his resolve broke and he looked back. Nico was gone. Percy tried to pretend he didn't care.

The door creaked when Percy's fingers closed around the cold, dented knob, the sound making Percy cringe as it continued its high pitch as he pushed it open. Taking a deep breath, Percy stepped inside.

The house was dark, but this darkness was different from the one that plagued Melinoë's abode. It clung to Percy's skin, sticky and hot, filling his lungs and settling heavily there within. Percy took another deep breath and took another step. The door swung shut behind him, back to its barely opened position. The self-shutting door would have freaked Percy out more if he weren't so concerned with the muttering that now filled the air.

Percy blinked his eyes hard and strained to see through the clogging darkness, his fingers twitching behind him as they tried to find anything suitable to use as a weapon. His fingers closed around something long and thin as he strained to hear through the darkness.

"Oh no, oh dear, oh oh—"

A shape took form in the gloom and Percy almost recoiled when he realized the figure muttering to itself towered over him, twice maybe thrice his height. The giant—what else could it be?—stood hunched over in the middle of a sparsely furnished room. It rang its hands as it fretted, its back to Percy.

"Oh no, oh no, I will be in so much trouble, I will, I will—remember, remember, _remember!"_

The last two 'remembers' were punctuated by sharp knocks to the giant head inflicted by himself. The force of it had Percy stumbling back. He accidentally clanged into a metal hanging behind him, the pieces noisily jostling—and the giant whirled.

" _Who dares intrude?"_ it roared, shaking the very foundation of the house with the force of its cry.

"Ah, I'm—I—" Percy brought the long object around, hit with a rush of relief strong enough to make his knees weak at the sight of the pointed end. The giant was, well, giant and Percy, panicking, decided the best way to avoid a direct attack was to ask: "What are you trying to remember?"

The question confused the giant, who froze with its arms spread wide. Its face (masculine, probably male) convulsed. "What Master wanted me to do!" he all but whined, brow furrowed. "He told me to do it and I can't remember and now I'll be beaten!"

The giant let out a wail and, like the roar, it shook the very floorboards beneath their feet. He sniffled, reaching a great hand up to wipe his nose (eww). The movement brought his eyes back to the poker in Percy's hand and he frowned.

"You're not master," he said suspiciously. "Are you here to hurt me?"

"No!" Percy said quick, letting the poker drop down unthreateningly to his side (he would undoubtedly need it later). "I am here to ah—collect something. Yeah. But ah, I can maybe help you remember what Master told you to do first?"

"Oh," the giant's face went from malicious to benevolent so fast it was like he was a completely different creature. "Really?"

"Yeah, um," Percy thought. "Were you supposed to clean something maybe?"

The giant frowned. "I don't think so."

"Ah, take out the trash?"

The giant shook his head.

Percy thought. "Ah, look—" he frowned. "What did you say your name was?"

The giant stared at him. "I—" his face trembled, his great eyes filling with tears. Percy stared, more alarmed than when he thought the giant was going to attack him. "I don't know. I can't remember."

"Oh." That was . . . sad. He studied the giant's face. "Well, okay, I'm going to call you Bob is that okay?"

"Bob?"

"I mean, unless you don't—it's the first thing that came to my mind—" Percy stammered as the giant gave a terrible cry.

"I am Bob! I am Bob!" he cried and Percy couldn't tell if that sobs that shook his great form were from happiness or sadness.

"Thank you, thank you!" Bob sobbed and Percy didn't have time to bring the poker around before the giant was on top of him.

Bob strangled Percy—no wait. This was a hug. He was being . . . hugged.

"Ah." Percy blinked into the sweaty, soot covered cloth of Bob's shirt. "Um. There, there?"

"You gave me a name!"

"Ah, yes?"

"Thank you, thank you."

Percy tried to pat Bob on the back the best he could, his arms were kind of pinned to his side, and tried to be patience in waiting for Bob's sobbing to die out. But he was keenly aware of the passing seconds, Nico's warning echoing in his ears. The band around his wrist was lukewarm, its heat dwindling with every great sob Bob gave.

"Um, Bob? I'm, ah, real glad you're happy and stuff but ah, I'm kind of on an errand right now and there's a tight schedule."

"Yes, yes, sorry," Bob sniffled, pulling back and wiping his eyes.

"I ah, am sorry that we couldn't remember your task, Bob," Percy said and he actually felt real bad about it. He didn't want Bob to be beaten. Guy grew on him quickly.

Bob nodded and despite the tear tracks on his face and puffy red eyes, he looked sagacious. "That is okay. You gave me a name. That is better than remembering."

"Okay," Percy whispered, a lump obscuring his words. He cleared his throat. "Ah—I don't suppose you know where the urn is, do you?"

Percy wasn't sure if that made sense. Surely a place like this had to have more than _one_ urn and who knows what Melinoë wanted—

"Ah yes," Bob said, nodding his head sagely like Percy made sense. "In Master's study. Down there, passed the kitchen."

Bob lifted a great hand and pointed. Percy followed his finger to a gaping hole near the corner that evidently served as a doorway to the next room.

"Okay. Ah, great. I'll just . . ." Percy looked at Bob. He didn't want to leave the giant now, not to a fate that would mean beatings and, if the scene Percy walked into was typical, forgetting his new name.

"Complete your task," Bob said kindly.

"Okay," Percy took a deep breath. If he left Nico, he could leave Bob. "Good luck, Bob."

"Good luck, friend," Bob saluted as Percy walked away.

Percy's throat closed and he didn't fight the urge to look back this time. Bob smiled, his face serine and hand held in farewell as Percy passed into the other room. Percy forced himself to look ahead. True to Bob's words, he found himself in a kitchen. Albeit it a strange, barren kitchen. There was a table with a chair that only had three legs and a bowl emitting a rotten stench sitting atop the table. In the far corner, there was a hearth, it's embers a dying gray, with hints of pink teasing the coals.

That's not what caught Percy's eyes. No, what caught Percy's eyes was the woman lying in the dirt before the hearth, her clothes and skin indistinguishable from the thick layer of soot that covered her. Still not what caught his attention the most though. What really stood out in this strange picture was the fact that the woman was reaching her _bare hands_ into the coals to try and coax the pink glow back to a flame.

"What are you doing you're going to burn yourself!" Percy called without thinking, rushing forward as if to stop her.

Unlike Bob, the woman wasn't fazed by his sudden presence. She didn't even blink up at him.

"I need to tend the fire," she whispered, her voice hoarse and barely human as she clawed at the coals. "I need to tend the fire. Need to tend the fire."

"Hey, hey, hey," Percy objected, thoroughly alarmed now. "You're hurting yourself and besides the fire will never grow that way—"

It was the wrong thing to say. The woman _wailed._ The bowl clattered off the table and onto the floor, Percy's teeth went on edge and he knew he had to do _whatever_ it took to make the terrible noise stop.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he panicked. "Here, just, I'm sure you can tend the fire with—?" The poker clanged against his heels as he whipped around searching.

Oh.

Duh.

"Tend it with this!" He thrust the poker forward into the woman's groping hands.

The wailing ceased. "A . . . a poker?"

"Yeah so you don't have to use your hands and the metal should work better than your skin? It's not moist or damp and you won't be in pain so you can think clearly," Percy babbled as she closed her fingers around the poker.

She finally looked up at him, blinkingly slowly, owlishly. Her eyes were off gray, maybe they were once blue, and were the only part of her face he could discern with all the soot. She turned back to the hearth and nudged the coals with the poker. She looked up at Percy in wonder.

"Thank you," she breathed as if he'd given her the world.

"Ah, you're welcome?"

"No, _thank you_. Master took away the pokers and made me tend this fire with my bare hands. I . . . _thank you_ for bringing it back."

"Ah—" Percy wasn't sure how to respond to that. He mostly felt sad. "What's your name?"

"I am Andromeda."

"I'm sorry Andromeda," Percy said wearily, staring at the hopeless hearth.

"No, thank you," Andromeda returned.

"Can't you just leave?" Percy asked desperately.

"Where would I go? Master would find me and I would be worse off."

"Did you eat the fruit too?"

Andromeda's brow furrow. Or so Percy thought. The soot on her face burrowed in a bit. "No. My mother traded my freedom for riches. Now I am here."

_Another child punished for their parent_ , Percy thought as his hands curled into fists. His felt like he swallowed more soot than all that covered Andromeda when he asked, "Where is the study?"

Her eyes were understanding as she pointed. "Through that door."

"I'm sorry," Percy repeated as he turned his back once more.

He could feel Andromeda's eyes on his back. The four steps to the next door felt an eternity. Fate didn't grant him any time to linger or second guess himself because the second the door opened, another figure was upon him.

"Umph!" Percy cried as the figure knocked him to the ground.

Heavy paws dug into his shoulders, the creature's weight forcing the air from Percy's lungs and as Percy blinked, winded, at his attacker, he realized two rows of sharp teeth bared at him. A dog had tackled him to the ground. Except this was no ordinary dog. No the creature on top of him was as large as a bear, with massive paws and teeth, both dangerously close to all the vital parts of him. The dog's fur blended into the darkness and red eyes trained on Percy's throat: it was a hellhound. Whelp.

"Ah," Percy gasped out, regretting relinquishing the poker to Andromeda. "Who's a good boy?"

The hellhound tilted its head.

"You are, yes, you are a very, ah, good boy," Percy gasps out. The words were stifled because of the _giant hellhound_ on his chest.

The hellhound made a noise—was that a whine?

"The best, the best boy!" Percy coughed, trying to push at the hellhound's paws without appearing hostile.

The hellhound's maybe-whine turned into a growl and he immediately turned pushing into petting.

"Yes, yes, good boy, good boy."

_Oh, dear gods please work,_ Percy thought desperately as the hellhound bowed its unbelievably massive head, teeth coming closer and closer. It gave Percy a sniff, then _plop_ sat back on its haunches, giant paws removed from Percy's chest. Percy immediately rolled over, coughing and hacking as he tried to refill his lungs with precious air. The hellhound watched him, head tilted to the side. It must have gotten impatient because it gave a low bark, shifting on its haunches.

"S-sorry but you kind of, ack, squished all the air from me," Percy coughed, pushing himself into a sitting position.

The hellhound stared.

"Um, good boy?" Percy offered again, patting the beast's foot. A _thud_ echoed in the air. Percy froze . . . then realized it was the hound's tail wagging.

"Oh yes, good boy," Percy repeated, with feeling this time as he grew bolder and reached up to scratch the hound under its chin.

_Thud, thud, thud._ A tongue as wide as his hand popped out and licked a path from Percy's chin to forehead. He could feel his hair sticking up after his unwanted bath.

"Thanks, buddy," Percy grumbled, wrinkling his nose as he felt a glob of saliva roll down his cheek

" _Woof_."

The bark rattled Percy's teeth. He clamped them together in an attempt to save his tongue.

"Thanks, buddy," he repeated, petting the giant hellhound one more time. _Thud, thud, thud._

" _Woof_." The hellhound went again as Percy got to his feet.

"Gods you're big," Percy said reaching out to scratch behind one giant ear, which was level with his shoulders. The hellhound's tail wagged some more and Percy couldn't help the twitch his lips gave. He always wanted a dog.

"Good boy," Percy said with feeling, patting and scratching the excited pup.

"Alright, so I'm supposed to find urn of some sort buddy. I don't suppose you know what I'm looking for?"

" _Woof_."

To his surprise, the hellhound leapt forward, the ground shaking with every mighty bound. It crossed the dark room in three quick bounds, coming to a halt before what looked to be an old, abused desk. More cautiously than his canine friend, Percy crossed the floor, his heels coming down slowly for fear of traps or anything else nefarious. Nico's fear of Eurynomos set Percy on edge and when he finally reached the hellhound's side, he fully expected something terrible to happen.

The desk was ornate, or at least had been at one time. The large brass decorations were eroded and the gold trimming rusted. Sitting in the middle of the rusted desk was an urn. One glance told Percy this was what he came for. Unlike everything else he had seen in all of Melinoe's realm, the urn was neither decayed nor faded. It appeared to be solid gold, its surface polished and shining so bright, Percy didn't know how he missed it when he walked in. Black arches adorned the shining surface, curving out to form delicate designs that in turn formed a story. Percy traced the patterns with his fingers; a beautiful maiden reaching up to pick a fruit; the maiden surrounded by twisted trees; the maiden leaning over a well while a male figure lurked in the background; the male handing a bucket to the maiden; a field of wheat; the male holding a bread loaf to the maiden; a terrible witch chasing the maiden who fell into the male's arms; finally the maiden and male sharing a kiss.

The urn was the most beautiful thing Percy'd ever seen. He could have stared at it forever if the hellhound hadn't whined and bumped its giant head into Percy's chest.

"Oof!" Percy stumbled, steadying himself with a hand on the hellhound's head. He scratched it behind the ears as he shook his head.

"Okay so . . . here it goes," Percy sighed. He hesitated a second longer before reaching forward. His fingers closed around the urn, feeling dirty and unworthy. Slowly, gently, he lifted it from the desk.

A flash of lighting lit up the window behind the desk.

_"Mrs. O'Leary! Bite the hand that dares touch my urn!"_

Percy jumped as the voice boomed from the sky. At his side, the hellhound whined and cowered. It looked up at Percy, fear obvious in its red eyes. It whined then butted against Percy's chest, frantically trying to get the man to leave.

" _Mrs. O'Leary! I told you to attack!"_

Percy stared down at the hellhound, who shook and tremble with fear beyond comprehension as she tried to get him to leave. Percy's heart pounded painfully against his chest.

"I'm going," he promised, tucking the urn carefully under his arm. He had taken all of a single step out of the room ( _go go go_ a Nico like voice screamed at him) but all he could see was Mrs. O'Leary cowering.

"Mrs. O'Leary!" Percy shouted and the hellhound whined. "Come with me!"

She didn't need to be told twice. In one colossal leap, she was at his side and together they fled.

" _Andromeda, throw your embers upon them!"_

Andromeda watched as Percy and Mrs. O'Leary tore into the room. She held the poker tightly in one hand. She met Percy's gaze and steel formed in her eyes.

"No," she whispered, closing her eyes tightly as the house shook. Dirt fell from the ceiling, the ground trembled beneath their feet as an ungodly sound tore through the air.

Percy didn't hesitate this time. He tucked the urn under one arm, reaching the other out to Andromeda.

"Come with us."

She took it and they ran.

_"Iapetus, kill them!"_

Bob waited for them at the door. The giant didn't hesitate, holding the door open for the fleeing party, his face serene and set.

"My name is Bob," he said simply.

"Then come with us, Bob!" Percy called, pushing Andromeda out the door.

Mrs. O'Leary led the charge, bounding down the sooty yard, Andromeda pulling Percy along. Bob pulled the door shut and lumbered after the group. Percy's heart sore as he looked over his shoulder at the giant—they did it! He had the urn, he got them, they were going to—

The door burst open, flying off the hinges to clattered against the black soot. A skull went flying through the air and a roar, too terrible and fearful to be recounted, tore from the being in the doorway. It was larger than Bob, twisted and hideous and Percy knew this was Eurynomos.

At his side, Andromeda gave a little sob.

Like when the damning fruit fell from the tree into his hand, Percy didn't think. He pushed the urn into Andromeda's hands.

"Run. Keep them safe," he told Bob.

One of the skeletons in the soot held a gleaming sword in its eternal grasp—Percy wrenched it free and turned to face Eurynomos. The daimon was ginormous, a monster in his right, and power radiated from his massive form. Percy swallowed hard. The cold of the sword bit into his hand, awkward and too long. He was a stableman, not a swordsman but he dragged the others into this, he couldn't let them suffer for his selfishness.

"You dare break into my house, steal my urn, and turn my minions against me?" Eurynomos roared.

"I dare," Percy said with more confidence than he felt. He held the sword firmly, putting it between himself and the daimon.

He expected Eurynomos to attack then, to lurch forward with his grotesque weight and all of the muscles in Percy's body tensed in preparation. But the daimon stared at him, head cocked to the side. A twisted, ghoul-like grin edged up the monster's face.

"You are Melinoë's newest victim," Eurynomos chuckled. "Yes, she warned me about you. She thinks the one called Ghost King haunts your steps."

"What?" Percy asked despite himself.

"He never introduces himself as such, not anymore. Let me guess, the only who drew water for you, who turned the weeds into wine, is the one you call Nico."

Percy froze. "Nico?"

"Ghost King Nico," Eurynomos laughed darkly. "Feared disciple of the dead. Were he not bound to Melinoë's realm even the great midnight mistress would quiver before him."

"What?" Percy's head spun, his brow puckering. He pictured Nico, with his shoulders hunched but smiling as he talked about the games his dead sister and he used to play.

"The Ghost King, the one who holds the dead at his call, led armies in the name of the death himself." Eurynomos grinned. "You know nothing of the one you call Nico."

"That . . ." Percy blinked. "That's a lie."

"What other non-spirits do you see walking Melinoë's world, earthling? My prisoners, yourself and Nico . . . one of them is the Ghost King."

"I—" Percy shook his head. "Not Nico."

Eurynomos gave a ground shaking laugh. "Believe what you wish earthling you won't have to worry about it long! You shall meet your end here tonight!"

Percy barely had the time to bring the sword up as the daimon jumped. He slashed on instinct, the tip of the sword barely missing as Eurynomos pulled back before coming back at Percy with an upper cut. Percy threw himself backwards, barely able to hang onto the sword as he twisted out of the way. He twirled, slashing again but Eurynomos was unbelievably agile for his great size and Percy missed him. The dance continued this way, with Percy twisting out of the way only for Eurynomos to advance and it was only a matter of time before one of them slipped up.

Percy swung again but Eurynomos was faster—he caught Percy square in the chest and the mortal flew backwards, landing hard in the soot. Percy coughed, then gasped and gagged as soot filled his lungs. He scrambled to his feet, frantically searching for the sword for a moment until his fingers closed around the cold hilt, pushing himself to his feet. He was still hacking, tears stinging his eyes, when Eurynomos was upon him again. Percy swung and Eurynomos ducked. Learning from last time Percy scrambled back and Eurynomos next swing missed him.

Eurynomos _roared_ , the sound frightening a primitive part of Percy's brain but he stayed firm, grasping the hilt of the sword with two hands as his adversary charged again. Percy sliced and watched, elated, as it clanged against Eurynomos' chest and—and bounced harmlessly off.

Eurynomos' laughter echoed in Percy's ears as the giant took advantage of his surprise and sent Percy flying a league back. Percy tumbled through the air, landing and rolling but he barely felt the pain. The sword _bounced off his skin_.

"Foolish mortal!" Eurynomos cackled, lumbering his way as Percy scrambled back to his feet once more, clutching the sword like a lifeline.

Desperately, disbelievingly, Percy leapt forward and brought the sword down on Eurynomos' chest. The giant didn't even try to move and the force of the blow, the sword clanging heavily but harmlessly against Eurynomos, sent a shock up Percy's arms and rattled his teeth.

"Stupid, foolish mortal," Eurynomos repeated, reaching out to grab Percy by the scruff of his shirt. He lifted Percy off the ground with one hand, Percy screaming and kicking the whole time. He pounded his own fists against Eurynomos, kicking desperately, twisting and cursing.

Eurynomos shook him like a ragdoll, his limbs knocking against each other and head lobbing with a sickening snap. Percy's legs kicked uselessly and all he saw was the red of Eurynomos' eyes. He tossed Percy forcefully to the ground. Percy managed to turn himself so his shoulder crashed unforgivingly against the ground, pain shooting down his body and he gasped. He didn't get the time to so much as turn before Eurynomos pinned him under one giant foot, slowly putting his substantial weight on the trapped mortal.

Percy gasped, or try to. Instead, he inhaled soot and then nothing, because his lungs were being crushed, black spots flashed before his eyes. Gods Eurynomos was going to crush him to death. Percy tried to roll, to get free, but he couldn't breathe, he couldn't—

Then the weight was gone. Percy didn't hesitate, rolling over to hack out the soot and inhale air. He blinked hard, trying to clear the dark spots and found himself staring up at . . . Nico. Nico stood between him and Eurynomos. The sword that was always strapped to Nico's side was drawn, the blade dark and aim unwavering at the giant.

"N—n—" Percy tried to warn, his voice hoarse and barely audible.

"Ghost King." Eurynomos' eyes flashed.

"You will not touch him again," Nico snarled.

"You forget yourself, _Ghost King_ ," Eurynomos shouted. "You hold no powers down here, just cheap parlor tricks."

"I said you will not touch him again."

"So be it."

Eurynomos charged.

"Nico, swords don't work—" Percy gasped, forcing his weak arms to work and pushed himself shakily to his knees.

Nico held his ground and swung true when Eurynomos was close. Eurynomos roared, stumbling back as . . . as gold blood spurted from a wound on his chest.

Percy gaped. Nico turned quickly, roughly yanking Percy off the ground. He pulled Percy against him and, Percy felt like a thousand pins were pricking him, the world went black. Then the world came back and Percy was blinking at Nico's hysterical face.

"Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?" Nico asked, breathing heavily, running his fingers over Percy's forehead, finding a cut above Percy's eyebrow then moving on to check the rest of him.

"I'm okay—Nico I'm oka— _ouch_ —" Nico found his injured shoulder. "Nico wait! There were, there were—a girl, a hellhound and a, ah, Bob, ah—"

"Percy!"

"Andromeda," Percy gasped, blinking at the girl looming over Nico's shoulder. His eyes flickered behind her to find Bob and Mrs. O'Leary lurking behind her.

"They're fine, they found me," Nico dismissed, feeling out Percy's shoulder. "I don't think it's broken."

"It's not," Percy said, rolling it. "It's, it's fine Nico, really I'm fine."

Nico ignored him, hands moving all over Percy to search out every scratch and bruise.

"Nico, Nico," Percy tried to placate, reaching out stem the frantic search. He grabbed Nico's hands. "Nico!"

Nico stared at him, breathing heavily, eyes wild. In that moment, staring into his black eyes, Percy could finally see what Eurynomos had been saying. There was something inhuman inside there, something powerful and mystical beyond anything Percy could imagine.

"I'm okay," Percy said speaking each word slowly. "I'm okay . . . thanks to you. How'd you do that? My sword couldn't touch him."

"My sword can," Nico muttered, not looking Percy in the eye. He tried to pull his hands away but Percy held on tight.

"Is it because you're the Ghost King?"

Nico didn't answer.

"Nico. Nico, hey look at me." Nico didn't look, just fussed with Percy's shoulder some more. Percy couldn't help hissing in pain and Nico looked murderous. "Ghost King or not, you're the one who came and rescued me. Three different times now. I don't care, Nico, I don't care what they call you."

Nico sighed, looking pained. "You should. Gods how are you still alive." He leaned forward, putting his forehead against Percy's.

"Bob? Andromeda? Mrs. O'Leary?"

"We're okay," came Bob's voice from over Nico's shoulder. "I have your urn."

Nico's breath ghosted against Percy's cheek. He could just barely see Bob through Nico's hair. Mrs. O'Leary brushed against his side and Percy wiggled an arm free to pet her.

"Good b—er, girl I guess," Percy said. He gently pushed Nico away, keeping a hand on the small of his back when Nico started to protest.

In the open space, he could see clearly now the scars that littered Bob's face, feel the matted fur of Mrs. O'Leary. Andromeda smiled thinly at him from Bob's side, holding her body tightly. The question that was so clearly edged into her soot covered features echoed in his own mind: what would they do now? Sure they escaped Eurynomos but there was nowhere to run in Melinoë's realm. He could even hear Eurynomos thundering somewhere in the distance. Where was there to run to? The daimon had said Nico could not protect them here in the she-demon's realm.

"Can they get out?" Percy asked softly, heart thudding painfully in his chest. He didn't just save them to lead them to their deaths . . . had he?

"There is a way . . . if they haven't eaten anything like you have," Nico muttered.

None of them had. Eurynomous wasn't exactly a kind host.

"They can get back," Percy said excitedly, grinning. Mrs. O'Leary gave a low _woof_ rubbing against his legs.

"Yes . . . "

"Can . . ." Percy hesitated. "Can you show us the way?"

"I know the way," Nico sighed. "But you can't follow. The seeds . . ."

"Bind me here," Percy finished for him. "I know."

He looked to Bob, at the urn cradled in his large arms. Percy held his hand out and Bob, as gently as cradling an infant, relinquished it. Percy held it in the arm not around Nico, turning the urn over to see the beautiful scenes. The shine caught Nico's eye and he too turned. The scene facing them was of the maiden and the male tangled in their amorous embrace. Nico reached out, tracing their delicate forms with one finger. Percy had a perfect view of his face: wistful, longing and ultimately . . . resigned.

Something clicked inside Percy then, a decision he had been unconsciously toying with for a while now solidifying in his mind.

"Nico, I need you to take them out of Melinoë's realm."

Nico's lips twisted unhappily.

"Please, for me?" Percy all but begged.

"I'll be okay," he further convinced, holding the urn out as proof. "She can't deny me now."

Nico stared unhappily at the urn.

"It's going to be okay," Percy told him gently. He gave a crooked grin as he pulled away to stare at this strange man that had done so much for him. "Just get the others out for me. I can hardly mess it up now."

"Yeah," Nico said, staring at the urn. His dark eyes flickered up, lingering on the cut above Percy's brow.

"It's going to be okay," Percy repeated and, before he lost his nerve, pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of Nico's mouth. "Keep them safe for me."

Percy didn't dare look back as he turned, taking long confident strides away from his friends. Nobody called after him. Refusing to dwell on any thoughts least his nerve leave him, Percy rubbed the band around his wrist. It wasn't cold but the heat had dwindled to a mere whisper against his skin and he knew he had to hurry.

When he finally reached the steps of Melinoë's door, the band's heat was no more than the embers Andromeda once anxiously stirred.

"Melinoë!" Percy called, the urn cradled against his chest.

She didn't keep him in suspense. The whirl of the darkness was akin to a hurricane in its ferocity, the wind tore at his clothes and bombarded painfully against his skin. Percy bent over, wrapping his arms protectively around the urn.

"You!"

Melinoë trembled with rage when Percy peaked out from under the cover of his arms. She looked beyond demonic, all but foaming at the mouth. When Percy straightened and the urn became apparent in the circle of his arms, she let out an unearthly wail, one that had Percy's teeth chattering.

"I win," Percy shouted, his voice all but lost in the volume of her cry. He held the urn out triumphantly

It vanished from his grasp, appearing before the furious she-demon. Melinoë's chest heaved, murder in her eyes.

"How?"

"It doesn't matter, you have the urn."

"This is impossible, unheard of, un—" Melinoë's face twitched. "Nico."

Percy kept his face blank.

"The Ghost King you—"

"I know who he is," Percy said, cutting her off. "And I know what _you_ did to _him._ "

"Oh do you?" Melinoë snarled. "You think you know who the Ghost King is? What he has done? The armies he has led? The undead that followed his steps? The lives he has ruined, destroyed, cut short? The creatures he has tortured? And all in the name of the one who sired him." Thunder boomed overhead. "Hades, lord of the underworld."

"What? No, no that's . . ." Percy couldn't understand. Nico? A son of _Hades?_ Nico couldn't be the son of Hades he was too—

"Think about it," Melinoë hissed, slithering closer. "The shadow-traveling, the ring, the sword, why do you think the phantoms never stray from the field? Even their listless, lifeless bodies fear the hollow shell of he who once was King."

"You . . ." Percy breathed heavily. He shook his head, once, then again. "It doesn't matter."

"It doesn't _matter?_ "

"No." Percy thought of golden wine and a sword flashing in his defense and couldn't think of anything mattering less.

"He is the son of _Hades,_ of hell and darkness itself and you think it doesn't—"

"So what if he is the son of Hades?" Percy demanded, temper flaring. "He's not evil, not my Nico."

Movement caught his eyes and, over Melinoë's shoulder, in the middle of the overgrown field, Nico appeared. From the soft look on his face, he had overheard what Percy said.

"A deal is a deal," Percy said, not quite able to tear his eyes from Nico.

Melinoë trembled. "You are free to go."

"And what about Nico?"

"That was not part of the deal." Melinoë appeared suddenly before him, her nose inches from his own, her gaping eyeless abyss boring into him.

"I know." Percy licked his lips. "But . . . but what if I stayed instead and you let him go?"

Melinoë's brow furrowed, her mouth falling opening.

"Think about it, you don't want word getting around that a mortal defeated you and if Nico's gone he can't help anyone else," Percy rationalized.

"No!" Nico materialized on the other side of Melinoë. His chest heaved, nostrils flaring. "No! Melinoë that was not the deal, you can't—"

Melinoë stared at Percy, head tilting to the side.

"Melinoë, you don't want to set me free, I'm the son of Hades, the Ghost King, for Zeus' sake—"

"Do you want people to hear about the mortal who defeated the great midnight mistress?" Percy whispered. "Would it matter more than the son of Hades breaking free?"

"You are free, Nico, Ghost King, son of Hades. Haunt my halls no longer. Waste your hours however you deem fit," Melinoë declared, reaching a hand up and curling her fingers.

Nico's eyes were dark and wild, a strange aura of power radiating from his form.

" _No!"_ Nico cried, hand reaching forward as if to grab Percy . . . and he vanished. Just like that. No puff of smoke or dramatic thunder clasp just . . . nothing.

The echo of his cry bounced around the cracked walls of Melinoë's abode: _no, no, no_. Percy closed his eyes and tried to drown it out. His heart thudded painfully in his ears, _no, no, no._ He didn't regret his decision but he hated the sound of Nico's distressed cry.

_It's okay,_ he thought silently, _it's better this way,_ _Nico. She can't torture me for all of eternity. Just one lifetime._

Melinoë's lips curled in contempt. "You think this is love? That the Ghost King _loved_ you?"

Percy shrugged. It didn't matter what Melinoë said, not anymore.

"He begged to stay here and let me go free," Percy said simply.

"Foolish mortal. You will regret this."

"I don't think there's anything you could do to me to make me regret it," Percy replied.

"We'll see about that." Melinoë raised her hand.

Percy's hand flew to his throat as the air felt like it was torn from his lungs. The world changed. He collapsed onto a hard floor, cold and damp and lightless. He gasped and air returned to him. Percy took great, greedy gulps, coughing and hacking as he orientated himself. He couldn't see anything. Percy held his hand out, waving it before him but still saw nothing.

_Great_ , he thought, pushing himself to his knees and then his feet. He shuffled blindly, arms outstretched. The ground felt rough and damp; the only sound to be heard was a distance _drip, drip._ Percy shuffled until his fingers brushed against something. A wall. Percy put his left hand palm up against the wall and began walking. _One two three four five._ Five steps wide . . . or long . . . or something whatever. One dimension was five steps. _One two three four five._ The other way. _One two three four five._

A square, Percy realized. He was stuck in a tiny, windowless, doorless square.

"Hello?" Percy called and his voice bounced around the tiny space, echoing in his ears. His heart pounded and soon it drowned out even the ever increasing sound of his breath.

Was this it then? Was this where Melinoë designed to keep him for the rest of eternity? In this tiny, dark, damp, inescapable closet?

Percy sank to the floor, his back against the wall. His legs stretched out before him, barely able to properly sprawl without hitting the opposite wall. He pulled his knees up to his chest, unable to bear the reminder of his captivity.

"Styx."

Percy pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, trying to force back the panic. He didn't do idleness, he needed to move, how did you move in a place like this? He needed sunlight, gods even the overgrown field had _some_ kind of light. He couldn't be trapped in this inescapable closet forever, he couldn't, he couldn't, he—

_Breathe,_ Percy reminded himself, breathing in sharply through his nose. _Hold it._

_One . . . two . . . three—_

He didn't last four seconds, taking in quick, panicked breaths.

He tried again.

_One . . . two . . . thr—_

Oh god, what if she never let him out—?

_One . . . two—_

Ever?

_One . . . tw—_

He was going to go insane.

_One—_

He would die here, insane and raving—

_Remember! Remember who this was for!_

_One . . . two . . ._

Bob, with his giant kindness and scar-covered back.

_One . . . two . . . three . . ._

Andromeda, with her soo- covered face and burned hands.

_Four . . . five . . . six . . ._

Mrs. O'Leary, big and sloppy kisses marred by burnt hair and fearful whines.

_Seven . . . eight . . . nine . . ._

Nico. Nico with a bucket full of forgettable water. Nico sitting in a field of dandelions with the past in his eyes. Nico with a sword drawn and determination in his mouth. Nico screaming and reaching for Percy as he disappeared into freedom.

_Ten._

* * *

Time was nothing. Everything was nothing. All that mattered were the soft breaths he took and the numbers he counted off to keep him sane.

The sound startled him. It was soft and had he been anywhere else, it would never have caught his attention. It sounded like wind, but there was no wind in Melinoë's realm. Except the swirls the mistress herself made—had Melinoë returned? Was she going to take him somewhere worse? His head snapped up, eyes uselessly searching the darkness as he pressed himself flush against the wall. He couldn't help the thrill of fear that ran through him. Melinoë promised his regret and he feared whatever horrors could be worse than _this_.

A hand slapped over his mouth and Percy reflectively started to scream when a familiar voice silenced:

"Sh! Don't scream!"

_Nico?!_

"I'm going to move my hand but you have to be quiet okay?"

Percy nodded, dazed.

"Okay."

The hand moved.

"Oh gods I've gone insane," Percy moaned.

"You haven't," not-Nico sounded pained but not the good kind of pained, the you're-annoying-but-I-like-you-and-therefore-tolerate-it kind of pained but the I-feel-emotional-pain kind of pained. The hand was back, on Percy's forehead this time, pushing back hair. Percy couldn't resist leaning into the touch. Hey, if it was an insanity induced delirium he might as well indulge.

"I'm real," not-Nico insisted and something golden glowed.

Percy's eyes squeezed shut immediately, so adjusted to the absolute darkness that even this little light hurt.

"Sorry, sorry," Nico muttered and Percy dared to crack his eyes open again.

Nico held a goblet of sorts in one hand and it was this object the emitted the light. Nico's features were barely visible and Percy blinked stupidly at the phantom kneeling before him. He reached out, letting his fingertips brush against Nico's cheek. It was warm.

"Styx, you're real," Percy breathed in disbelief. "Dammit, Nico what are you doing here?!"

"Shh," Nico repeated, looking frantic. He looked terrible for a guy recently granted his freedom from an eternal bond. His eyes were wilder than usual, the bags under them darker, hair resisting gravity. "I figured out how to get you out of here but we have to hurry before she realizes I'm here!"

"What seriously—?! Okay, wha—what do you need me to do?"

Nico pushed the goblet under Percy's nose, holding it with both of his hands. He spoke rapidly, the words tripping over each other and jumbling together in a nearly incoherent mess. "Underworld food, either made in someone's domain or by someone's hands, binds beings to them if consumed. You ate three seeds of Melinoë's plant but if you consumed _more_ of something that belonged to someone else . . ."

He trailed off. Percy glanced down into the goblet, blinking to find a golden liquid inside. He knew, without having to ask, that it was Nico's dandelion wine.

"If you drink it—all of it!—then, then the bond will be stronger and you'll—"

"Belong to you instead?"

Even in the dark, Percy could see Nico flush.

"I won't, it's not like that—I can release you, I promise, I _swear,_ you'll be your own person on your own will, I would _never_. Just to get you out of here, I mean, I—"

Percy cut him off. "I trust you."

He reached out, tangling his fingers through Nico's around the cup. He pulled both the cup to his lips, effectively dragging Nico closer until the other's face was separated from his only by the cup . . . and drained the goblet dry.

 


End file.
